


Unholy Terror

by SafetyHazard (ineedapilot)



Series: What We Create in the Shadows October Prompt Fills [4]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Horror, Hypnosis, It's dark y'all, M/M, Possession, Prompt Fill, Vampire Murder, WWC2020, What We Create In October Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26893780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedapilot/pseuds/SafetyHazard
Summary: Nandor and the gang have the bright idea to have Wallace exorcise the Van Helsing from Guillermo's blood. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Series: What We Create in the Shadows October Prompt Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946776
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	Unholy Terror

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the What We Create in the Shadows (WWCITS) October prompt list. Day 8: Unholy
> 
> I'm sorry.

Nandor crashes through the door of his crypt, hissing when the torn flesh of his shoulder makes contact with the jamb. He stumbles forward and reaches desperately for his broadsword, its blade glinting in the sparse candlelight. Tearing it off the wall, Nandor spins back toward the doorway and limps back several steps until he can lean sideways against the solid wood of his coffin. He hauls the sword up into fighting position.

The quiet footsteps echoing down the dark corridor draw nearer. Nandor's eyes narrow. His hackles rise, and he hisses as the shadow rounds the corner. A ghostly wind blasts through the crypt, extinguishing the candles and whipping Nandor's hair about his head. Without his heightened vampiric vision, he would have been unable to see his opponent through the darkness.

Nandor never imagined that Guillermo de la Cruz's rotund figure could be so imposing, not even after the theater. His trench coat, dyed crimson, billows out around him, revealing his bandoliers of slaying equipment. His hair is disheveled and matted with blood. The most terrifying sight, though, is his eyes, bright blue behind fractured lenses. One chubby hand tightens around a bloodstained stake.

"Hello, Nandor the Relentless."

\--

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. After they'd all returned from the theater, Guillermo had confessed to them his vampire slayer ancestry as they stood among the corpses and pools of blood in the foyer. Laszlo had been incredulous, Nadja had been indignant, Colin Robinson had been calm, and Nandor had stood there in a storm of emotions, from betrayal to gratitude to regret to apprehension. If only things could go back to the way they used to be.

So when he thought of a solution, quite a brilliant one if he said so himself, he eagerly presented it to the group while Guillermo went to fetch his small cold box.

"We can bring him to your warlock friend, Walter," he said, pointing at Nadja. "He can use his magic to remove the Van Helsing from Guillermo's blood, so he will no longer be a vampire killer. Then he will be able to come back and live with us again without worrying about murdering us!" After all, Guillermo had said he'd left because he was having thoughts of slaying them.

Nadja looked doubtful. "He's not going to go for it, you know. He doesn't like Wallace since our dear Topher tried to kill him. I could smell his distaste, it comes from the armpit."

"My darling, you've seen the state of the house without Gizmo around," Laszlo said. "Bringing him to Wallace seems a much more expedient solution than finding another familiar. As much as I hate to admit it, Gizmo kept this place a sight better than we have since he left."

Colin Robinson piped up from the corner. "I didn't really get involved with the shenanigans with Wallace last time, but are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, he did turn Topher into a zombie."

"Quiet, Colin Robinson!" Nandor said, pushing aside his own doubts. "We all saw how he took control of zombie Topher when we brought him back! He is the real deal, he was just distracted by the Ember Alert last time."

Colin frowned. "Well, I-"

"What are you guys talking about? Did you say Topher?" Guillermo was standing in the doorway, holding his cold box. Something tightened in Nandor's chest at the sight of his innocent, confused face.

He couldn't let Guillermo leave again. "Laszlo, put Guillermo to sleep." Laszlo cast him a look, then rose from his seat, lifting his arm toward Guillermo. Guillermo's eyes widened in shock and betrayal, but his hands were full, and there was nothing he could do.

"Sleep," Laszlo intoned, waving his hand. Guillermo opened his mouth angrily, but before he could say a word, he sagged, eyes rolling back and box tumbling out of his arms with a crash. He collapsed to the floor in a heap.

\--

After that, they'd brought him to Wallace. Nandor had insisted on carrying Guillermo, and the others hadn't argued. He'd flown with determination, cradling Guillermo's soft, warm body in his arms.

Wallace was surprised to see them after the debacle of their last transaction, but he told them that exorcism was indeed among the services he offered. "It's a complicated spell, but tell you what. As a token of thanks for your continued patronage, I'll give you a discount."

Nandor watched as Wallace pranced around Guillermo's unconscious form, laid out on the table, still dressed in his blood-drenched clothes from the theater. They had to move quickly, he told himself, for everyone's safety.

A bright blue glow surrounded Guillermo, and he rose up into the air, convulsing, like Topher had. This time, though, when Wallace finished his incantation, a shockwave pulsed out, blowing each of them back against the wall, followed by a vacuum as the blue halo around Guillermo's body was sucked back in.

Wallace ushered them out, assuring them, "He'll wake up in a couple of hours, totally back to normal, and no vampire slaying. Guaranteed!"

Flying home, Nandor inspected his familiar. His cherubic face was unchanged, twitching slightly in his sleep. He did look a little pale, and his glasses had cracked from the force of the spell's blast. Nandor decided he would give Guillermo time off until he could recover and assume his duties once again. He could spare the time, after all; it was only Guillermo who would grow older until Nandor was ready to turn him.

They laid Guillermo down on the bare mattress in his room under the stairs. Nandor thought it would be good for him to be in familiar surroundings when he woke up.

He sat next to the bed on Guillermo's small, uncomfortable chair, watching the slumbering human with excitement and trepidation. Guillermo would understand. He had only left because he didn't want to hurt them. He would be grateful to be free of the burden of his ancestry. He would stay.

The hollow feeling in Nandor's stomach was just hunger.

It felt like an eternity before Guillermo stirred. Nandor raced out into the foyer and called out for the others. "Nadja, Laszlo! Colin Robinson! Come here, he is waking!" He gathered them around the bed, waiting for Guillermo to open his eyes.

When he did, they were blue.

\--

Laszlo had been first, killed before he even knew what hit him. The only signal had been the flick of tan fabric as Guillermo - no, not Guillermo - launched a stake from under the folds of his trench coat.

Nandor whirled to see wood sprout from Laszlo's chest. Laszlo's face twisted in shock and pain and he staggered backward, reaching out painted fingers toward Nadja while he fell.

"My...darling..." The death rattle left his throat just as the undead light left his face, centuries of love extinguished in an instant.

Nadja, her world narrowed down to the corpse before her, dove down to kneel at its side, shaking it and pleading. Colin Robinson was backed up against the wall, shoulders hunched and eyes vigilant. Nandor, in a daze, turned to the human still lying supine on the threadbare mattress.

Not-Guillermo's blue eyes held rage and mirth in equal measure, and he sat up with unnatural grace. His lips quirked in a dark smile. "Vampires shall reap the rewards of their sins."

The voice wasn't Guillermo's either. His even tone was overlaid and drowned out by a European-accented echo.

"Who are you?!" Nandor demanded, on guard now for another assault. "What have you done with Guillermo?"

The human smiled and closed his eyes, letting out a disdainful sigh. "Ah, Guillermo. Your lovely familiar." His eyes opened again, fixing Nandor with a flinty look. "My descendent, whom you have corrupted. You will pay."

Before Nandor could react, a black blur blazed past him and Not-Guillermo was flying out into the foyer, landing with a thud in one of the large puddles of putrifying blood. Nadja stalked past Nandor toward the man and rose into the air, fangs bared and eyes black with rage.

"I will flay the flesh from your bones!" She screamed, lunging forward.

Nandor panicked. In a flash, he tackled Nadja out of the air, sending them both crashing into the floor near the entryway. Nadja was standing again instantly, hissing in fury, and Nandor grabbed her wrists, struggling to hold her back. "Wait, Nadja!" He said desperately.

She snarled in his face. "If you try to stop me, I will kill you too, Nandor!"

The _thud_ that echoed through the room made both of them freeze. In slow motion, Nadja doubled over in pain, clutching at the crossbow bolt in her stomach. Nandor spun and saw Not-Guillermo sneering in satisfaction, standing next to the open cold box with a crossbow in his hand; then Nadja leapt past him again, knocking Not-Guillermo to the floor, claws flashing as she tore at him. Nandor's heart dropped in his chest.

A moment later, the tip of a stake pierced through Nadja's back with a sickening _shick_. Nandor watched in dread while her limp body lifted up and flopped to the side. Her killer climbed slowly to his feet. Scratches adorned his cheeks and chest and the collar of his white shirt dangled in shreds, but he was unfazed.

The man met Nandor's eyes for a still second, then turned to look at Colin Robinson, standing solemnly in the doorway to the closet. Colin stepped forward. "You know," he said conversationally, "you might think it's impossible to feed off of the emotions of the dead." He stretched out an arm toward each of Nadja and Laszlo's bodies. "But actually, if their dying feelings were strong enough, you can get quite a meal from them."

Colin's eyes glowed blue, and he lifted into the air. With a wave of his hand, he threw Not-Guillermo up against the wall of the foyer, causing several paintings to clatter to the floor. Nandor watched helplessly as Not-Guillermo winced, pinioned by Colin's telekinesis, but then the human leered.

"Ah, an energy vampire. Obscene beast. You will not drain another soul." His eyes flicked back down to Nandor's, and he spoke almost casually. "It is surprisingly easy to kill an energy vampire. All you have to do is behead them."

In one fluid motion, he wrenched his arm away from the wall and thrust it into his coat, then flung it forward. The silver machete gleamed in the candlelight, spinning lazily through the air. It sliced cleanly through Colin's neck before burying itself in the opposite wall.

The discharge of power from the energy vampire's death blew out the lights, plunging the foyer into darkness. As Colin's body flopped to the ground, Not-Guillermo landed catlike on all fours, then stood slowly and met Nandor's horrified gaze.

He cocked his head. "Your turn."

\--

"Hello, Nandor the Relentless."

Nandor curses to himself. How had he not seen the monster lurking within Guillermo, concealed behind those unassuming spectacles and deferent brown eyes? The massacre at the theater ought to have opened his eyes to the reality, but he had been too blind, too desperate to claw back to the comfortable normalcy of their life before.

 _Nandor the Relentless, ha!_ He thinks bitterly. He's a relentless warrior who couldn't protect his own friends, because it would mean destroying the best thing that's happened to him in his centuries of undead existence.

Now, all that indecision had brought his fortress of delusion crashing down around him. Cornered, hopeless, staring his greatest mistake in the face.

"What's wrong? Not so relentless now, are you?" Not-Guillermo's voice taunts him. His mirthless smile, his cold eyes are so familiar yet so alien.

Dropping the sword with a clatter, Nandor roars and pounces, pinning Not-Guillermo to the ground. The stake rolls away across the floor. He places his knees over the man's elbows and sits on his yielding belly. He threads the fingers of one hand into that luscious brown hair, sticky with blood, and he wraps the other around that delectable thick throat, pulsing with life. He tenses, ready to tear apart his heart and soul.

The blue light flickers out of Guillermo's eyes. Nandor almost doesn't see it, his vision blurred with tears, until he hears the hoarse whisper of his Guillermo's voice. "Please don't...Master, I'm so sorry, please..."

Nandor stops short, a thousand emotions curdling together in his stomach as he recoils, loosening his hold. "Guillermo..." he breathes. He blinks, clearing his sight so he can behold his familiar's face again.

In the space between one blink and the next, Nandor feels a silver dagger slide into his gut like a sigh. When his eyes jolt open in shock, he sees that the blue has reignited in Guillermo's irises.

He stumbles backwards, colliding with his coffin, which topples sideways with an almighty crash. He reaches down to yank out the dagger, and his hand sizzles on the cross emblazoned on the hilt, making him scream in pain and let go.

Despair overtakes him, and Nandor slumps down to the floor, propped up against the heavy wood of his ruined coffin. He watches as Not-Guillermo rises to his feet and turns toward him, pulling another stake out of his bandolier.

The killer's face is impassive, and he speaks deliberately. "Guillermo de la Cruz...your familiar really loves you, doesn't he, Nandor? You did quite the number on him these past eleven years." A boiling rage seethes to the surface, breaking apart his icy visage. "No kin of mine will suffer a vampire's torment any longer."

Nandor looks up into those frigid eyes, no longer those of his beloved familiar, and accepts his fate. Perhaps he deserves this, for all the pain he caused to Guillermo, whose hope and devotion he had abused, whom he had led to all of this - servitude, degradation, fear, and now possession.

He keeps his eyes wide open, staring at the man in front of him. Like a mirage, Nandor envisions Guillermo's warm smile replacing the face of this unholy terror that has subsumed him, just as the rough wood plunges into his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt list here: https://twitter.com/wwcits/status/1307816076021907456
> 
> This is my first time writing something this dark, so I would love some feedback on whether it worked. I also haven't written Nadja, Laszlo, or Colin Robinson before, so I hope their voices are okay. Thanks for reading!


End file.
